


The Broken Star

by RedWyrmLord



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Magic, Original Character(s), Original Races, Sad Backstories, Short Stories, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-12 15:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedWyrmLord/pseuds/RedWyrmLord
Summary: Short snippets of a vast world of magic and mages. Disjointed and non-chronological, but all a part of the same world. Backstories are explored, connections are made, and magic infuses the world with its influence.This is only the beginning.





	1. Apple Day

Sylph looked down at the small red fruit in her hand with joy. Apple day was her favorite! Papa Jormundy says that we deserve it for our hard work. She quickly scurried to her favorite corner by the machine and sat down, arms resting on her knees. This was her corner, no one else liked being near the stinky machine, but she liked it. Sylph took tiny bites of the precious fruit with her pointed teeth, savoring the sweetness. 

In no time at all, the shrill bell rang, signaling that noontime was over. Sylph jerked up in panic. She wasn’t even halfway done with her apple! If she didn’t eat it, another kid would take it! Sylph looked around for a place to hide her treasure. No, not there, Stringy Hair sometimes hid there. No, not by the door, One Hand once slept back there. The only place was… yes. Sylph turned to the big machine she was next to. None of the other kids liked coming near it. They said it smelled like death and poison. She didn’t know what poison smells like, but the machine smelt fine to her. Sylph lay down on the grimy floor, looking under the small opening beneath the machine. There a dark shiny patch that looked a bit sticky, and something was dripping farther back than she could reach. Yes, this would work. Sylph pushed her half eaten apple almost as far as it would go. Some of the black stuff got on it, but that was okay. She’d be back for it later. 

It was time for work now.

* * *

Sylph didn’t like work. The strangers would poke her all over, and Papa Jormundy would whack her if she didn’t smile enough. But today—today! Today was apple day! And she had successfully found a way to prolong her precious apple longer than noontime! When she got back to the Worker Room, she could spend as long as she wanted tasting it. Now she had something to do while the other workers slept! She didn’t know why they had to sleep so much, did they enjoy it that much? It was weird, sleeping every day. 

She yelped as someone touched her on the shoulder, nearly dropping her crate of scrap. Turning around, there was a big man behind her. She smiled at him, she had to listen to Papa Jormundy. The man grabbed her by the chin and turned her head side to side. Why was he doing that? He forced her mouth open, and frowned. It was hard to smile like this. The man let go with a huff, and walked away without a word, toward Stringy Hair. Weird.

* * *

Work was done for now. Now was rest time. All the other workers—except Stringy Hair, where were they?—squabbled and hit each other, fighting for the blankets. Sylph didn’t bother, she had no intention of sleeping now. Either way, if she’d wanted to, no one fought her for her blanket. She’d shown the last kid that her teeth weren’t just for show.  


Sylph peeked under the machine again, seeking out the half eaten apple. There it was! Exactly where she’d left it. Reaching out her arm, she pulled the fruit out of its hiding place. It was covered in black gunk, that wouldn’t do. The black stuff tasted funny, it would spoil the apple taste. Sylph rubbed the fruit on her stained shirt, trying to get as much off as she could. That was good enough.  


Sylph sat back down in her corner and continued picking at the red apple. By the time the bell rang to signal the time to start working, the apple was gone. Unnatural ruby red eyes stared out at the rest of the workers as they began stirring. Shark like teeth peeked out from slightly parted lips. A thin tongue licked up the remaining oil from an unnaturally wide mouth. It was time for work. If she worked hard, she might get another apple day. Apple days were her favorite.


	2. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to the first story, set many years later.

I stumbled as the boy gripping my hand dragged me behind him.

“Don’t fall!” he shouted back at me. Of course, like I was planning to. I glanced back in the direction we were fleeing from, scanning the dark sky for movement. There were lights coming from far behind. Crap.

“They noticed, they’re coming,” I bit out, and picked up the pace. We’d been running for several minutes now, but that wasn’t anywhere near the head start we’d hoped for. “Come on, we’re almost to the tree line!” If we made it there it’d be nearly impossible to find us without a professional tracker.

There was a distant shout, and something blasted by us, missing by a meter. Even so, we were both thrown to the ground by the sheer force. The boy let out a sharp cry. 

“Come, on we’re almost there,” I repeated, scrambling to my feet. The boy stumbled as he rose. “Crap.” He’d landed badly, his foot was hurt. I put his arm around my shoulder and dragged him toward the trees.

“Gah!”

“Shut up, you can make it.”

“I don’t,” He hissed. “I don’t know.”

“Shut up, you can!” He made to speak again, but there was another shout. I felt my shoulder jerk as we were thrown to the ground again. “Crap, come on we're so close!” I turned to the boy and froze. The attacker hadn’t missed this time. The boy had a huge hole in his right side, pouring blood onto the hard packed dirt. No, no no no! We were going to escape together! We were going to learn each other’s names, and eat real food, and see the sun! He wasn’t allowed to die, we weren’t there yet!

He coughed and looked at me, blood trickling down his chin. “Wh-what’s your name?” he asked. 

I shook my head. “No, we aren’t supposed to learn names until we’re free! We’re not free yet!”

He smiled, “My name’s Gorra. I’ll be free soon, just in a different way than you will.”

Tears started down my face. There were audible voices in the distance now. “Y- *hic* you dummy. My, my name’s Sylph.” He kept smiling, a far more genuine smile than the one I’d seen on his face every day in that place. 

The voices were getting louder. I hugged the body of my only friend, then ran the remaining distance to the dense forest. Just before I crossed the border, one more shout rang out behind me, close enough to understand this time. “Wind cannon!” I dove to the side, just in time as the speeding projectile passed through the space my head had just been. I looked back, and saw my pursuers. Six men wielding various weapons, with one leading them with an outstretched staff. He was the one. 

He was the one who killed Gorra. He would pay.

But not now. I couldn’t fight seven trained adults, I couldn’t even fight one! But one day. One day. “You’ll pay for this,” I hissed out. He was too far away to hear such a quiet proclamation, but I didn’t care. I turned and ran into the forest, finally out of sight.


	3. Night Snow

Banishment. It was a phrase I’d heard many times during my life, usually as an insincere threat, and rarely during examples of the worst criminals in our history. Never did I think it’d be truly applied to me. Especially not like this.

I trudged through to knee-high snow, the soft scraping a familiar comfort against my bare legs. White flurries danced amongst the shadowed trees and peppered my face. I closed my eyes. 

This was my new normal. My new home. Without a house, I’d need to find shelter, immunity to cold wouldn’t protect me from wandering predators. I couldn’t rely on the hunter squad to feed me, so I’d also have to hunt. I’d need new clothes at some point as well, and without Mother’s sewing skills, I’d have to...I’d have to...

I sniffed. There were tears slowly sliding down my face. I rubbed them away quickly. I can’t cry! They kicked me out! It wasn’t my fault! The tears kept coming, and I hiccuped. My chest felt like it was stuck under a rock, I couldn’t breathe properly.

“Mother,” I sobbed. “Father, why? Why didn’t you stop them? Why didn’t you say anything?” I fell to my knees, and screamed, “Why did you let me go without a fight!” When the elders had exiled me in front of everyone, they’d just stood there and watched. They hadn’t said a single thing in my defense. They’d abandoned me to the endless frozen tundra, the relentless wilderness that killed any who dared wander it. They’d watched my execution and hadn’t shed a tear.

I don’t know how long I stayed there crying, but the tears eventually stopped. My body felt raw. I got to my feet and continued on. I understood. I didn’t agree, but I understood. It didn’t matter if I’d meant to or not, I had attracted that monster to the village. The events and intentions leading up to it didn’t matter, the only thing that did was that my actions lead to a tenth of the village’s population dead. I steeled my heart, that was enough crying. I’m sure the village elders would take immense pleasure in my suffering, and I won’t give them the satisfaction. No more tears. I needed to move forward, I needed to survive. And it that meant I needed to kill everything else that crossed my path, then so be it. I felt a strange tingle shoot up my spine and settle in my chest. Was this what being cold felt like?

…

I don’t like it.


	4. Reunion

“Reggie!”

My eyes are drawn to the huge man who’s great shout just announced his presence. He’s wearing his best military garb, all fine crimson fabric and obsidian buttons. How did those women get him into that?

The tall blond man he’d hailed turned around to see his old friend waving to him from a short distance. “Ignis!” he shouted back. “It’s been too long! How’s it been?” 

Ignis smiled, grasping his hand in a grip that was borderline painful, if Reggie’s slight grimace was any indicator. “I’ve been doing well. How go your adventures? Tuyen has yet to kill you in frustration I see.” Wasn’t that a miracle.

Reggie rubbed the back of his head bashfully. “Yeah, we’re doing good. I’m honestly still surprised she’s giving me a chance. But yeah! Last month we found this sweet city over west, there were these huge black buildings as tall, maybe taller, than the old fortress! It was like an ancient forest of stone and glass, it was wild!”

As Reggie continued to regale Ignis with tales of the strange lands he’d seen, a hauntingly beautiful woman in elegant silver and blue robes, Tuyen, glided over to Ignis’s companion. “It’s good to see you, Kanna. Or is it Ione?” she greeted with a rare smile.

The woman she spoke to grinned hugely in response. “Kanna right now!” she said, before lunging forward and embracing her. Tuyen stumbled back from the force, before hesitatingly wrapping her arms around her friend. “You know Ione hates this kind of mushy stuff.” If only I could hide and let someone else take over my body during social shit. I envy you Ione. Except not, no one’s ever gonna share a body with me. And seriously, Kanna, is it physically possible for you to wear something that isn’t some shade of blue?

I swirl my glass of wine from my corner of the fancy, velvet-floored room. My eyes slide from the happy reunions to scan the room once more. Over there are Maxwell and Faida talking to one another quietly. The disgusting lovebirds are probably making plans to slip away for an hour or so. Or they’re discussing the fact that this is the first time the whole clan’s been together in over  a century. Either or.

“Are you not going to speak with anyone?”

I look back at Dacs, bastard snuck up on me, he’s been taking lessons from Vedia. “You know I hate this kinda thing. I’d rather we all had a good ol’ fashion free for all, see how everyone’s grown.” There was definitely a nasty grin on my face, but everyone here knew what I was like. 

Dacs looked me up and down. He was wearing that weird wide-brimmed hat that made him look like a tool. “I’m sure you would have a great time fighting in that.” Shit. Yeah.

I heaved a heavy sigh, looking down at my fancy clothes. It was a beautiful black strapless dress that came down to just below my knees, all expensive silk and fine embroidery. I looked amazing, but it’d be impossible to fight in without ruining it. With all the effort Faida expended getting the thing for me, and convincing me to actually put it on, I didn’t want to ruin it. Yet. “Yeah, whatever Dacs. Go stick your head in a tree.” I leaned against the wall and continued my observations. 

Dacs lingered for a moment, then gave me a short nod. “It is good to see you again Akyra.” He walked off, back toward a green-haired woman who was chatting animatedly with a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit. Yeah. Good to see you too, friend. I took a sip of my wine. Bleugh. 


	5. Recollections

It hurts.

Not just my body, while that hurts too, what hurts is something far deeper. When I left home, I was searching for a life of adventure. For fun, and passion, and music. I wanted to be a hero, the shining knight who rescued helpless women from mighty dragons. I was an idiot. Not a week on the road and I’d been robbed blind by bandits and left to die. What was I thinking, that some weak-limbed noble brat could just pick up a sword and suddenly be a hero? Ha. I learned that day that reality is much harsher than stories.

That should have been the end, but a passing traveller had taken pity on me. He’d nursed me back to health, and listened to my story. At the end, he offered to teach me the basics of swordplay, and help me take back what had been stolen. He’d been hunting those bandits for a while now. Refusing his offer hadn’t even crossed my mind before I’d accepted it. My training began as soon as I was well enough to stand. The man’s name was Strom.

Strom already had an apprentice, and looking back, I have no idea why he thought he could manage two. She was a fierce, violent girl with no patience for small talk or pleasantries. Her name was Karra. For a kid who grew up being told that women were supposed to be quiet, submissive, and pretty, this loud, wild, overwhelming girl was a bit of a shock. By day six of my training, I was hopelessly in love.

In the end, I was able to join Strom and Karra on their strike against the bandits. We descended in the night and tore through the camp while the evil men were still scrambling for their weapons. I got stuck in a fierce battle with a skilled bandit, but was able to pull through with my superior speed and a bit of luck. I kept his sword as a trophy, a beautifully made scimitar.

After the camp had been routed, I stayed with my new teacher. The three of us travelled the land, learning all we could and growing in skill and character. Eventually, Karra began to return my advances, and everything seemed to going great.

Ha.

Someone took notice. I don’t know why, maybe we’d killed someone they cared for, maybe they wanted to nip a growing problem in the bud, or maybe they just wanted to hurt something and we were the unlucky sods who caught their eye first. All I know is that we were on the road, happily discussing our latest adventure, when a terrifying knight in black armor appeared and attacked us without a word. Karra and I were confident that we’d be fine, but when Strom screamed at us to run, we were too shocked to do anything but listen. It had been the first time we’d seen him scared.

We’d fled, and ran for what felt like hours. We ended up along a cliff over a river by the time the knight caught up, sword stained red. I turned to fight, but Karra stayed my hand. She looked me in the eye, told me she loved me, and shoved me off the cliff. As I was falling, the last thing I saw before I hit the river was the black sword protruding from Karra’s chest. 

So here I lay, beaten, broken, and close to death once more. But this time, I don’t know if I can bear to keep going. The moon is shining down, illuminating the river into a shimmering strip of liquid silver. 

I wish Karra could see this.


	6. Workshop

Dacs loved his workshop. While here, he could dedicate his entire existence to his craft, blocking out all outside distractions and noise. Here, he was in his element. Dacs took a moment to admire the room he had built himself. Hundreds of tools of all shapes and sizes sat in their designated spots everywhere, and half built projects covered every surface. The warm glow of several high quality furnaces infused the room with a pleasant warm light. While he reminisced about the effort put into this room, his hands continued to bend, twist, snap, drill, and attach different bits of metal. Little scraps and springs levitated from their storage crates and floated over at his command. A heating bar of steel was moved slightly to best utilize the furnace’s fire. Dacs was trying to relax a bit, so he was limiting his multitasking for the moment.

There was a knock at the door, a heavy clanging that echoed through the room. Dacs sighed, and stood up. The tools continued to work without his hands as he walked across the room and opened the door. “Yes?” he asked, before raising an eyebrow at the person before him. They were unfamiliar.

The man was large, with rough, calloused skin and a thick beard. “I’ve heard tales of your exploits in the field of craftsmanship, Dacs, and I simply had to meet you,” the man said with a grin.

“How did you get in here,” Dacs growled, lowering his head slightly. 

The man’s grin widened. “You couldn’t keep me out if you tried, boy. You aren’t that good.”

Dacs was getting a bad feeling. He’d built this fortress from the ground up, and he was proud to say that it was the most secure location on the continent. If this man had broken in with such casual ease as his demeanor implied, then…

“I didn’t hurt anyone on my way in, honestly! Lighten up, son, that kind of tension isn’t good for your joints.” The man stepped forward, forcing his way past Dacs with little effort. Dacs was surprised, he wasn’t called “The Immovable” for nothing. But that surprise turned to shock at the next words out of the unusually strong man: “But, that isn’t exactly something with your makeup would need to worry about, is it, golem boy?”

There was a crash as all the floating tools and materials in the room slammed into the ground. Dacs’s right arm twisted and transformed into a razor sharp spike of emerald green crystal, and he launched himself at the man’s turned back. The only people who knew about his inhuman nature were his closest allies, of which this intruder was not one of, and his bastard creator.

The man twisted, allowing the spike to sail past his head. Before Dacs could recover, a massive hand slammed into his chest, sending him flying. “Ah, sensitive point, that?” the man said. Golden spikes erupted from Dacs’s back, and his momentum slowed until he was floating a good twenty feet from the intruder. He glared and prepared the charge once more. The man siged. “Enough.” A massive pressure slammed down on Dacs, forcing him to the floor. “Calm down.”

Dacs’s glare only intensified, but he couldn’t move at all. “Who are you?” he bit out. This level of strength was ridiculous!

The man walked calmly over to Dacs’s prone form, and then crouched down in front of him. “I am Drenthorax, god of the forge.” Dacs’s eyes widened in shock. “I am here to find out how a golem, of all things, has obtained a soul and become the greatest craftsman on the planet. So, if your futile struggling has ceased, I would like some answers.”


	7. Akyra

Akyra watches with fascination through her raven black hair as her mother’s deft fingers manipulate the large knife, carving up the fresh rabbit with quick, efficient slices. “This is where you need to cut first,” her mother says. “You must be careful here, if you cut wrong, you can pierce something inside that makes the meat bad.” She can’t wait to try herself! Her mom’s so cool!

 

A boy lays on the ground, cradling a bloody nose. “Did I say you could touch me?” Akyra asks him disdainfully. “Get up. If you can hold your own, I’ll be your friend, I guess.” The boy gets up shakily, and raises his fists. The young girl grins, and rushes forward, fist cocked.

 

Swords clash, as Akyra and her mother trade blows with wooden training blades. Akyra strikes out with aggression, trying to overwhelm her opponent with her strength and ferocity. It worked every time in training class! 

Akyra’s mother deftly avoids or deflects each of her daughter’s blows, before lashing out with a precise strike to Akyra’s wrist, forcing her to drop her weapon. Akyra stares in shock at her empty, throbbing hand, then up at her mother. “You have strength, Akyra,” her mother says, “but if you don’t augment that strength with technique, if you don’t try to circumvent and analyze your foe at every opportunity, then you’ll never master the blade.”

 

Akyra coughs, stumbling forward through the burning smoke. The village is engulfed in flame. “Mom!” she screams out. “Mom! Where are you?” A massive blast of hot wind blows ash and dust in her face, but clears the smoke momentarily. There, she sees her mother! She’s facing off against an unfamiliar form, before she blurs and reappears already striking at that form. Akyra hadn’t even seen her move! The smoke redescends. That form had blocked such a fast attack, so Akyra knew she wouldn’t be any help. It sucked, but she’d only be a liability in such a fight, so she turned around and started looking for a place to whether the storm. Her mother would be fine.

 

It’s raining. Akyra stands in the ashes of her lifelong home, before the body of her mother, impaled with her own sword.

 

Wanted Dead or Alive: Death Raven. Bounty: 50,000 gold coins. Wanted for the deaths of forty-two city guards, twenty-one imperial soldiers, and one imperial commander. Has been reported systematically eliminating bandit tribes between Axia and Nulwar. Extreme caution is advised, as subject is highly skilled in close combat.

 

“Who are you.” Akyra stood tall, but tense, ready to explode into movement at the slightest provocation. The man before her was wearing high quality leather armor with a metal breastplate. He had a tall staff in one hand.

“My name is Maxwell,” he said. “I think it’s a shame for someone with your talent to be wasting time hunting trash.” He nodded toward the burning bandit camp a few hundred feet behind her. He smiled at her, and she realized with a start that he was just as ready to leap into action as she was. “I have an offer for you.”


	8. Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an experiment.

“Hah, hah, hah,”            panted as he rushed through the forest. Branches tore at his leather armor and whipped bloody furrows on his exposed face. He had to get away, he had to get away! If            stopped, that---that  _ thing _ would get him! He had no idea what it was, except that it wasn’t human!            continued running.

          had joined the bandit troupe for the same reasons as most:  he liked money, women, and fighting, and the troupe had been a great place to combine those things, along with giving the law the middle finger. He was still a grunt, but his fighting prowess and large stature were guaranteed to boost him through the ranks in the coming years. If he lived that long. 

It’d all started earlier that day, when he and some of his buddies had found a small campsite on the edge of their territory. There was a fire crackling, and a beautiful woman with bright blonde hair sleeping. Of course, they’d snuck up and clubbed her, ransacked the camp, and took their loot, including the woman, back to camp. She hadn’t woken up, but before they’d been able to have some fun,          was hit by a blast of violet energy and lost his head.

A massive man landed in the camp, standing over the woman. He had to have been at least nine feet tall, and the enormous draconic wings made him look even larger.            had seen plenty of nasty looks in his profession, but he’d never seen such hate. The man’s violet eyes seemed to freeze the air was breathing and suck all the joy and warmth out of his body. Then the man moved, and three more bandits,        , , and , lost huge chunks of their bodies. Some of ’s comrades roared in anger and attacked, but he’d always been pretty smart. He knew that they were in the presence of an apex predator, and they’d stolen something it considered precious. 

          ran. He ran like hell itself was nipping at his heels. 

          shook his head, thoughts were distracting him from running. He was breathing even heavier now, great gasping breaths, his lungs felt like they were on fire. Something slammed into him from behind, sending him painfully into the ground. He looked behind him, and saw Death. The massive man, dressed in a black cloak, raised an obsidian scythe above his head. The blade was wreathed in dark energy that seemed to suck in the ambient light. And with one stroke,            was no more.

 

The dark man straightened, then looked at you. “I bet you’re confused,” he said, spinning his scythe and making it vanish. “I would be as well. I think you deserve an explanation.” There's a  _ fwip _ sound as the man vanished from his location and reappeared beside the still unconscious woman. The camp had been obliterated.

“My name is Oroborous. Most people call me Oro,” he said as he picked up the blonde woman. “Those men? The ones whose names you can’t read? I erased them.” Oro spread his wings and lifted into the air. “That's what that dark energy was, an ability that removes the target from existence, both physically, and temporally. They no longer exist, and they never did. Of course, if they never existed this wouldn’t have happened.” With a pulse of energy, Oro sped up tremendously and rocketed toward the east. “It’s a little more complicated than that. Their actions still happened, but anyone who knew of them will find their memories…missing.” Oro looked at you once more. “It’s not an ability I like to use, but they made me quite...” He looked at the woman in his arms, who was beginning to stir. “...irate. You’ll have to excuse me, my friend is waking. Until the next time we meet.” He gave you one last nod, then vanished again with a  _ fwip. _


	9. Long Legs and Dark Dealings

Tik. Tik. Tik.

A hard, chitinous leg taped absently at the rough, old brickwork. 

“Haaaa…” Pale arms tipped with black armored claws folded across a well endowed chest, while a sigh escaped painted black lips. Bright red eyes, solid like rubies, peered out of the darkness toward the opposite building. Her target.

“Last one for the day,” she said quietly to herself, uncrossing her arms and searching for weaknesses. Her torso leaned forward, while her massive lower body repositioned its many legs to keep her steady. Tik-tik-tik-tik-tik. Years of experience guided her eyes as she scanned the building. Multiple windows could serve as access points, where she could slip in and out quickly and silently. Unfortunately, due to the size of her arachnid half, that was never an option before, and wouldn’t become one now. If her employer came through, however, it would be one day. 

While her body was too large to slip through a window, her spells could easily accomplish her goal. Hell, she could do it from here. A twitch of the finger, a quick incantation, and pop! It’d all be over and she could go home. But… she’d done that already. Three times tonight and countless times in previous nights. Now, with this target, she wanted to use her own two claws. 

Her many legs tensed, her eyes confirmed a lack of witnesses, and she jumped across the street in a powerful leap. A burst of air slowed her fall just before she landed on the opposing roof, and she touched down silently. She crawled to the side of the building facing an alleyway, and dangled her body in front of the wall. Hopefully this worked, she’d certainly practiced it enough. Arcane words flowed from her lips, and the still unfamiliar energy flowed through her body like a thick syrup. Clawed fingers traced a large circle in the stone wall, and then sank into the center like quicksand. With a heave and a soft grunt, the large chunk of stone was pulled from the wall. Muscles straining, the arachne pulled the stone to the roof, and released her spell. Her fingers slipped out and the stone hit the roof with a  _ thwack. _ She winced, and listened for movement… nothing.

Once more she skittered over the edge of the roof, and squeezed through the new hole in the wall. She took in the decor of her target’s home quickly, and moved to the door she knew was to his sleeping quarters. It was locked, but that only stopped her for a few seconds. With a soft click, she picked the lock, and stepped inside. Her body was too wide, but some clever maneuvering got her in.

‘Finally,’ she thought, stepping forward. Her claws gleamed in the moonlight streaming in through the window she’d been observing earlier. Her long legs raised her over the bed of her target, and she set a claw against his throat.

The man’s eyes snapped open, and with a flash of movement, he’d pulled a dagger from under his pillow and stabbed her in the arm. She hissed and twitched, but otherwise didn’t move. The man went to move again, but froze upon getting a better look at the intruder. The moonlight made her pale skin shine in an ethereal manner, and her eyes seemed to burn with an inner light. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and it made his breath catch and his limbs freeze.

“Nothing personal, friend,” she said with a disarming smile. He started to smile back, before her face twisted into a cruel grin that stained her beautiful face with dark intentions. “Just business.”


	10. Ashes in the Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is initially set just before "Apple Day," and contains a portion copied from that chapter.

Grenn stared at the caged creature before him. He was standing outside, about fifty feet from the warehouse door of the Workhouse. Trent had returned from his scavenging mission, and had apparently brought back more than dragon scales and blood-stained coins in his dirty old cart.

“What in Gor’s beard am I looking at,” he stated flatly. The creature was humanoid, but resembled no race he’d ever heard of. It had pale blonde hair, like the northern elves, and a round face typical of humans from Axia, but the recognizable characteristics ended there. It’s thumbs had a sharp looking curved claw each, the arm structure looked...wrong, its ears looked like feathers made of flesh, and it’s partially open mouth was full of wide, sharp teeth, like a fusion of cow and shark teeth. Grenn glanced up at Trent, who raised his arms in surrender.

“Don’t look at me, bossman! We found her stuck under the corpse of a dragon, no idea where she came from or why she was in that warzone. Maybe some family was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Oh! Or maybe she’d been kidnapped by the damn drakes! Maybe she IS one!” Trent was getting more and more excited as new wild ideas bubbled up from the cesspool he called a brain. Honestly, this guy was stupider than a hornet’s nest underwater.

“Trent. Trent! TRENT!” His babbling stopped mid sentence. “Shut up. Leave it here and take the rest of your haul inside, I’ll call out some guys to bring her to the slave pens.” He looked back at the creature. “It looks young enough that we can probably convince it that “everything’s okay,” and that its new life is “normal,” but you never know with unknowns like this. It might only look young.”

Trent crossed his arms and nodded sagely with his eyes closed. “Yeah, that’d be best. Beating up kids always puts a bad taste in my mouth.” Each man grabbed hold of one edge of the crate, and gently set it on the hard packed dirt. Trent opened his mouth to say something more, but a small clang caught both men’s attention. They looked down at the caged being, noticing that it was starting to stir. 

Grenn’s eyes snapped back to Trent, and he said, “Act friendly, if this is a kid, we can save ourselves a lot of trouble if we can get it to trust us.” Trent nodded silently, then crouched down by the cage. The being inside twitched a few more times, then opened its eyes blearily. Trent barely suppressed a flinch. Those eyes were an extremely unnatural shade of bright crimson, and they were staring right at him.

“Hi there,” he began with a huge smile, “are you feeling better now?”

The being blinked slowly, then looked at its surroundings, clearly confused. “Where…” It spoke in a soft, breathy voice.

“It’s okay little one, we found you in a dangerous place, but you’re safe now! Can you tell me your name?”

The being stared at him again, red eyes boring holes into Trent’s. “...Sylph.” 

“That’s a pretty name! A pretty name for a pretty…” Trent paused and looked the Sylph over once more. It was pretty much impossible to tell what gender they were at a glance due to their age and the grime they were covered in. But, Sylph sounded kinda feminine? “...lady.”

Sylph looked down and blushed. “...Thanks,” she muttered nearly inaudibly. Trent resisted the urge to fistpump at his correct guess.

“Do you want to come out of the cage?” 

Sylph nodded, then looked back up at him. “Where am I? Where’s momma?”

Trent’s mind raced, searching for a believable lie. “This...this is your new home, Sylph! Since the place you were in was so bad, uh, your momma told us to bring you here!” He smiled at her reassuringly.

Sylph looked down again. “Oh,” she whispered, nearly imperceivable. “Ok.”

Trent glanced back toward Grenn questioningly, who’d been standing silently off to the side. Grenn looked back, thinking deeply, then nodded. It should be fine to let her out. Trent turned back to the cage and placed his hand an inch from the strangely shaped lock. With a burst of focused energy and a hiss of compressed air, the lock snapped open. Sylph’s head jerked back up as the cage door opened. “Don’t worry,” said Trent, taking her hand and guiding her to her feet. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

As the young man led the strange creature toward her new home, he couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d be there, and how large a price she’d attract when she left. Exotics like her were always such wildcards.

***

Six Years Later

***

Sylph didn’t like work. The strangers would poke her all over, and Papa Grenn would whack her if she didn’t smile enough. But she was strong, so she always carried the biggest boxes and worked the longest. It was weird, how fast the other kids got tired. Half a sun cycle wasn’t that long!

She yelped as someone touched her on the shoulder, nearly dropping her crate of potatoes. Turning around, there was a big man behind her. She smiled at him, she had to listen to Papa Grenn. The man grabbed her by the chin and turned her head side to side. Why was he doing that? He forced her mouth open, and frowned. It was hard to smile like this. The man let go with a huff, and walked away without a word, toward Stringy Hair. Weird.

***

Work was done for now. Now was rest time. All the other workers—except Stringy Hair, where were they?—squabbled and hit each other, fighting for the blankets. Sylph didn’t bother, she had no intention of sleeping now. Either way, if she’d wanted to, no one would fight her for her blanket. She’d shown the last kid that her teeth weren’t just for show.

Sylph peeked under the big noisy machine in the corner, seeking out the half eaten apple she’d stashed there earlier. There it was! Exactly where she’d left it. Reaching out her arm, she pulled the fruit out of its hiding place. It was covered in black gunk, that wouldn’t do. The black stuff tasted funny, it would spoil the apple taste. Sylph rubbed the fruit on her stained shirt, trying to get as much off as she could. That was good enough.

Sylph sat back down in her corner and picked at the red apple, taking tiny bites and savoring the sweet flavor. By the time the bell rang to signal the start of the next day, the apple was gone. Unnatural crimson red eyes stared out at the rest of the workers as they began stirring. Pointed, wide teeth peeked out from slightly parted lips. A thin tongue licked up the remaining oil from an unnaturally wide mouth. It was time for work. If she worked hard, she might get another apple. She loved apples.  



End file.
